Occasion for Disaster

CHIEF OF STAFF PSYCHOLOGY DEPARTMENT

  With a slight sigh, he pushed open the door and went in.

  Dr. Marshall was a tall, balding man with a light-brown brush mustacheand a pleasant smile. He wore thick glasses but he didn't look at allscholarly; instead, he looked rather like Alec Guinness made up for arole as a Naval lieutenant. He rose as Malone entered, and stretched ahand across the desk. "Glad to see you, Sir Kenneth," he said. "Veryglad."

  Malone shook hands and raised his eyebrows. "_Sir_ Kenneth?" he said.

  Dr. Marshall shrugged slightly. "She prefers it," he said. "And sincethere's no telling whose mind she might look into--" He smiled. "Afterall," he finished, "why not?"

  "Tell me, doctor," Malone said. "Don't you ever get uneasy about thefact that Her Majesty can look into your mind? I mean, it hasdisturbed some people."

  "Not at all," Marshall said. "Not in the least. After all, SirKenneth, it's all a matter of adjustment. Simple adjustment and nomore." He paused, then added: "Like sex."

  "Sex?" Malone said in a voice he hoped was calm.

  "Cultural mores," Marshall said. "That sort of thing. Nothing,really." He sat down. "Make yourself comfortable," he told Malone. "Asa matter of fact, the delusion Her Majesty suffers from has itscompensations for the psychiatrist. Where else could I be appointedRoyal Psychiatrist, Advisor to the Crown, and Earl Marshal?"

  Malone looked around, found a comfortable chair and dropped into it."I suppose so," he said. "It must be sort of fun, in a way."

  "Oh, it is," Marshall said. "Of course, it can get to be specificallytroublesome; all cases can. I remember a girl who'd managed to getherself married to the wrong man--she was trying to escape her mother,or some such thing. And she'd moved into this apartment where hernext-door neighbor, a nice woman really, had rather strange sexualtendencies. Well, what with those problems, and the husband himself--arather ill-tempered brute, but a nice fellow basically--and hereventually meeting Mr. Right, which was inevitable--"

  "I'm sure it was very troublesome," Malone put in.

  "Extremely," Marshall said. "Worked out in the end, though. Ah ...most of them do seem to, when we're lucky. When things break right."

  "And when they don't?" Malone said.

  Marshall shook his head slowly and rubbed at his forehead with twofingers. "We do what we can," he said. "It's an infant science. Iremember one rather unhappy case--started at a summer theatre, but thecomplications didn't stop there. As I recall, there were somethinglike seven women and three men involved deeply before it began tostraighten itself out. My patient was a young boy. Ah ... he hadactually precipitated the situation, or was convinced that he had. Allbasically nice people, by the way. All of them. But the kind of thingthey managed to get mixed up in--"

  "I'm sure it was interesting," Malone said. "But--"

  "Oh, they're all interesting," Marshall said. "But for sheercomplexity ... well, this is an unusual sort of case, the one I'mthinking about now. I remember it began with a girl named Ned--"

  "Dr. Marshall," Malone said desperately, "I'd like to hear about agirl named Ned. I really would. It doesn't even sound probable."

  "Ah?" Dr. Marshall said. "I'd like to tell you--"

  "Unfortunately," Malone went on doggedly, "there is some business I'vegot to talk over."

  Dr. Marshall's disappointment was evident for less than a second."Yes, Sir Kenneth?" he said.

  Malone took a deep breath. "It's about Her Majesty's mental state," hesaid. "I understand that a lot of it is complicated, and I probablywouldn't understand it. But can you give me as much as you think I candigest?"

  Marshall nodded slowly. "Ah ... you must understand that psychiatristsdiffer," he said. "We appear to run in schools--like fish, which isneither here nor there. But what I tell you might not be in accordwith a psychiatrist from another school, Sir Kenneth."

  "O.K.," Malone said. "Shoot."

  "An extremely interesting slang word, by the way," Marshall said."'Shoot.' Superficially an invitation to violence. I wonder--" Aglance from Malone was sufficient. "Getting back to the track,however," he went on, "I should begin by saying that Her Majestyappears to have suffered a shock of traumatic proportions early inlife. That might be the telepathic faculty itself coming to thefore--or, rather, the realization that others did not share herfaculty. That she was, in fact, in communication with a world whichcould never reach her on her own deepest and most important level." Hepaused. "Are you following me so far?" he asked.

  "Gamely," Malone admitted. "In other words, when she couldn'tcommunicate, she went into this traumatic shock."

  "Nor exactly," Marshall said. "We must understand what communicationis. Basically, Sir Kenneth, we can understand it as a substitute forsexual activity. That is, in its deepest sense. It is this attack onthe deepest levels of the psychic organism that results in the trauma;and has results of its own, by the way, which succeed in stabilizingthe traumatic shock on several levels."

  Malone blinked. "That last part began to get me a little," he said."Can we go over it again, just the tune this time and leave out theharmony?"

  Marshall smiled. "Certainly," he said. "Remember that Her Majesty hasbeen locked up in institutions since early adolescence. Because ofthis--a direct result of the original psychosis--she has beendeprived, not only of the communication which serves as a sublimationfor sexual activity, but, in fact, any normal sexual activity. Heridentification of herself with the Virgin Queen is far fromaccidental, Sir Kenneth."

  The idea that conservation was sex was a new and somewhat frighteningone to Malone, but he stuck to it grimly. "No sex," Malone said."That's the basic trouble."

  Marshall nodded. "It always is," he said. "In one form or another, SirKenneth; it is at the root of such problems at all times. But in HerMajesty's case the psychosis has become stabilized; she is the VirginQueen, and therefore her failure to become part of the normal sexualactivity of her group has a reason. It is accepted on that basis byher own psyche."

  "I see," Malone said. "Or, anyhow, I think I do. But how aboutchanges? Could she get worse or better? Could she start lying topeople--for the fun of it, or for reasons of her own?"

  "Changes in her psychic state don't seem very probable," Marshallsaid. "In theory, of course, anything is possible; but in fact, I haveobserved and worked with Her Majesty and no such change has occurred.You may take that as definite."

  "And the lying?" Malone said.

  Marshall frowned slightly. "I've just explained," he said, "that HerMajesty has been blocked in the direction of communication--that is,in the direction of one of her most important sexual sublimations.Such communication as she can have, therefore, is to be highlytreasured by her; it provides the nearest thing to sex that she mayhave. As the Virgin Queen, she may still certainly _converse_ in anyway possible. She would not injure that valuable possession and rightby falsifying it. It's quite impossible, Sir Kenneth. Quiteimpossible."

  This did not make Malone feel any better. It removed one of the twopossibilities--but it left him with no vacation, and the mostcomplicated case he had ever dreamed of sitting squarely in his lapand making rude faces at him.

  He had to solve the case--and he had nobody but himself to depend on.

  "You're sure?" he said.

  "Perfectly sure, Sir Kenneth," Marshall said.

  Malone sighed. "Well, then," he said, "can I see Her Majesty?" He knewperfectly well that he didn't have to ask Marshall's permission--oranybody else's. But it seemed more polite, somehow.

  "She's receiving Dr. Sheldon Lord in audience just at the moment,"Marshall said. "I don't see why you shouldn't go on to the ThroneRoom, though. He's giving her some psychological tests, but they oughtto be finished in a minute or two."

  "Fine," Malone said. "How about court dress? Got anything here thatmight fit me?"

  Marshall nodded. "We've got a pretty complete line of court costumenow," he said. "I should say it was the most complete inexistence--except possibly for the TV historical companies
. Down thehall, three doors farther on, you'll find the dressing room."

  * * * * *

  Malone thanked Dr. Marshall and went out slowly. He didn't really mindthe court dress or the Elizabethan etiquette Her Majesty